


Communication

by Ghostys



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Some graphic descriptions of injuries, lolix if you really squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7621720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostys/pseuds/Ghostys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partners Communicate</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication

**Author's Note:**

> The result of boredom and a very long plane journey

 

The whole ordeal was categorized as an error in communication. A badly worded order that lead an entire squad of soldiers to charge headlong into an all-out ambush, a simple miscommunication resulting in one of the greatest tactical failures that the division had seen in decades. 

 

Isaac was one of the many who found themselves stuck in the fray- he watched teammate after teammate get shot, stabbed and mutilated, people dropping to the ground like flies around him as he launched himself across the battlefield, firing blindly to clear a path in front of him. Rain poured down around him and turned the ground to a churned up mass of mud and rocks, causing him to slip and stumble as he swung himself into a sheltered alcove to escape the gunfire. 

 

A startled noise escaped Isaac as his back collided with a person’s arm, and he whipped his head to the side to catch sight of Sam, the taller man’s helmet discarded in the mud beside him in a mangled heap, two deep cuts slashing across his face in a X shape, the injury dirty and still dripping blood steadily down his face.

 

“Move up, I’m sheltering here too.” Isaac didn’t inquire about the injury- the guarded look in Sam’s eyes telling him that asking would leave him to deal with either a panic attack or a punch to the face, neither of which would be ideal in their situation. Sam didn’t respond verbally, but shuffled along the ground, leaving room for Isaac to press against the wall beside him, the limited amount of space causing the armour of the two soldiers to clash together slightly. The shorter man looked down at his gun, then back up at Sam. “You have any ammo?”

 

“No, I used it all trying to get into cover.” Sam responded, talking louder than he usually would so Isaac could hear him over the gunfire. “You?”

 

“Not much.” Isaac dropped the remaining ammo he had onto the muddy ground in front of him. “We can half what I have left and just hope we don’t have to use it.” Sam nodded in agreement, and loaded up his weapon, pulling it into his lap and settling back against the wall, raising a hand to smear some of the blood from his injury away from his eyes. Loading the bullets left on the ground back into his own gun, Isaac shuffled backwards and let his helmet rest against the back wall of the alcove, trying to drown out the sound of the gunfire that raged above them. 

 

“What are we going to do when we get out of this?” Isaac spoke again after a while, unable to tolerate the lack of conversation for any longer. Sam turned to face him, eyebrows raised in a skeptical expression.

 

“Why the ‘we’? What makes you think we’re going to stick together after this?” Isaac let out a frustrated sigh.

 

“Sam, if you think that either of us are just going to be able to get up and leave like nothing happened once we survive this, then you’re bullshitting yourself.” His voice was filled with bitter tones, eyes narrowed underneath the visor of his helmet.

 

“ _ If  _ we survive this.” Sam corrected him, eyes fixed on the movement outside of the alcove. 

 

“Look, I’m just trying to lighten the mood okay. No need to be such a fucking misery all the time.” Isaac glared at Sam, then inhaled sharply as the sound of gunshots and footsteps increased in volume, the two soldiers in the alcove hunching down closer together as they passed. “You know, I was thinking that we could try and move to the city.” Isaac knew his voice was barely audible over the sound of the fighting, but he spoke anyway, more to comfort himself than anything else. “We could both get an apartment each- there’s no way I’m sharing with you; you’d probably shoot me in my sleep. But we could have them close together, maybe even in the same building, just so I can come and annoy you whenever I feel like it.” He stopped talking as Sam shifted, raising his gun and shooting three times in the direction of some movement by the entrance to the alcove. 

 

“We need to use ammo sparingly- I don’t have much left.” Isaac nodded, gripping his weapon close to him and continuing to talk.

 

“I’ll buy a huge TV, and some sort of really fancy games console. You can buy whatever the hell you want, probably books or something. We wouldn’t have to do anything like this again- we could do whatever we wanted instead of having to follow shitty orders from shitty commanders.” Sam’s gaze was trained on the fighting going on outside of their spot of cover, but he nodded slightly, indicating to Isaac that he had heard everything that he was saying. “Should I keep talking?” Isaac questioned, hissing under his breath as footsteps ran past the alcove again, uncomfortably close. 

 

Sam didn’t speak in response, but nodded.

 

-

 

The two of them were amongst the only survivors, some of the last to be found amongst the remnants of what could only be described as a massacre, huddled together in the shelter of the alcove, with only three bullets left between them. All the survivors were dismissed from further service once they had recovered- for psychological reasons above anything else. 

 

They moved to the city as planned, setting into a cheap, run-down apartment block with no heating and bad lighting, and attempted to move on with their lives. They had been warned that readjustment would be hard, that it would be a long process that would take time, effort and support. However it wasn’t the nightmares or panic attacks that they had both been warned of that were the problem- it was the sheer boredom.

 

Neither of them ever spoke about it, but, after the rush and the blind high of adrenaline that came from charging into battle under a rain of gunfire and explosions, life in the city was mundane at best. Sam dealt with it by taking up martial arts classes, spending his free time at shooting ranges and the gym near the apartment block, honing his already fine-tuned skills to lethal accuracy despite the fact he never expected to need them again. Isaac handled the boredom in a more chaotic manner, taking to the adrenaline rush that came along with driving fast cars and indulging in minor theft. 

 

Siris found them after three months of them living in the city. He contacted the two of them, having learned of their existence after Isaac attempted to steal his car, tracking the two of them down and presenting them the offer of using their skills in a more productive manner- bounty hunting, bringing in criminals and collecting the price that they possessed. 

 

Isaac took the offer without a second thought. Convincing Sam took a while longer, the taller man skeptical of Siris’ intentions at first, however the two eventually found themselves alongside Siris on the night of their first job, bearing new clothes, weapons and names, Isaac Gates and Samuel Ortez donning the guise of Felix and Locus for the first time. 

 

Siris seemed insistent on ensuring that they knew the plan of the operation, that they were aware of what had to be done and what precautions they had to take, relaying the information past them over and over, before turning to face them, and shooting them a questioning look.

 

“So, is this all okay with you?” He gestured towards the writeup of the plan, and Locus narrowed his eyes in a doubtful expression, the question seeming to have caught him off guard. Felix stepped in and responded for the taller man.

 

“Yeah, it’s all good. Why’re you asking?” He glanced towards Siris in an unconvinced manner. 

 

“I’m not here to give you orders- I’m your partner, not your superior. If we’re going to make this work, we need to communicate with each other; and that includes making sure we’re all happy with the plan.” Siris answered, picking up his earpiece and fitting it into place. “Remember to stay on comms and talk to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” Felix turned on his own earpiece, then glanced across at Locus, who was doing the same, before loading up his gun and facing Siris again.

 

“Okay, got it.”

 

-

 

It took two months of working together for things to go wrong. 

 

An argument that sparked between Felix and Locus caused a lapse in their attention, drawing their focus away from their earpieces and links to Siris, rounding on one another in the accusatory glances and exasperated tones that they usually held off till after the job was done, leaving a window for the target to squirm away from them and sling a grenade in Siris’ direction. Felix and Locus didn’t notice that it had happened until the explosion, too busy venting their frustrations to spot the danger that their partner was in. 

 

The moment they heard the sound of the grenade going off, however, the argument was disbanded, and the two of them sent running towards Siris’ location, the target abandoned as they turned all their focus towards their partner. They found him lying curled up on the ground, the blast having thrown him to the side, his leg having taken the majority of the impact, no longer recognisable as flesh, now nothing but a mangled mess of burned tissue and blood. Shrapnel had carved a deep notch into Siris’ forehead, cutting through his eyebrow, and a chunk had been sliced out of his ear, the damage causing Felix and Locus to recoil, a sense of numbness descending upon them both, neither of them quite willing to accept that the blame was on them.

 

Even with a custom-built prosthetic to aid him, it took months for Siris to recover enough to go back to bounty hunting, having to relearn and adapt any skills that required his legs to work around his injury took time. Felix and Locus continued to work without him there to assist, but their success rate dropped to the lowest it had ever been- they were used to being a trio, and only really worked as such. 

 

When Siris rejoined Felix and Locus, the sense of relief it brought was only overridden by feelings of guilt. They were met with tired eyes and a face bearing more scars than they were used to seeing, the original bounty hunter’s movements weary as he motioned towards the prosthetic that replaced his leg, fixing them with a gaze that would have been easier to handle if it was filled with anger rather than disappointment.

 

“You see, this is why we need to communicate.”

 

-

 

The successes were always the best, especially when they followed narrow escapes from disaster. 

 

The three of them knew that they couldn’t keep the car, that they would have to sell it to cover equipment costs eventually, but none of them were complaining- they had survived, and that was enough of a reward. 

 

Siris was elected as the driver as usual, regarded the only one of the trio responsible enough to handle driving, however that aspect of his personality seemed to have been overridden by a high of relieved adrenaline, leading him to driving recklessly along the road, skipping past red lights and playing music loudly out of the windows as the sun slowly climbed into the sky above the city. Felix sat in the back, his leg bandaged and propped up on the seat next to him, his arm still slung around Locus’ shoulders, protesting that it was only to keep himself upright as Siris shot him a questioning look, however the giddy-looking grin that lingered on his face and the tight grip he kept on the taller man’s shoulder seemed to state otherwise. 

 

“I’d say it’s getting close to an appropriate time to have breakfast- how about we find a diner and get something to eat?” Siris suggested, his words hitching slightly as he pulled on the wheel to swerve out of the way of a car that was backing out into the road in front of them. Felix looked down at his injured leg, then back up at Siris. 

 

“Yeah, we could do that, or maybe you could take me to hospital, you know, seeing as I got fucking  _ shot _ .” Felix’s voice was brimming with spite, and Locus raised his eyebrows at the person clinging to him.

 

“It’s bandaged up and the bullet isn’t inside of you. You’re not going to bleed out.” In response to Locus’ statement, Felix huffed loudly, folding his arms and sinking down into the car seat with an indignant expression present upon his face. 

 

“Cheer up, Gates. I’ll buy you pancakes if it’ll stop you complaining.” Siris called back to him, and Felix straightened out at the mention of pancakes, swinging his arm back around Locus’ shoulders and using the leverage to haul himself back into a sitting position. Siris grinned at Felix’s immediate change in attitude, then looked back over the seats towards Locus. “Hey, Ortez, can I borrow your phone?” Locus seemed to hesitate, and Felix waited for the inevitable mention of codenames from the taller man, but blinked in pleasant surprise as he simply nodded, pulling out his phone and passing it over to Siris, who dialled in a number and wedged the phone between his shoulder and his ear so he could keep both hands on the steering wheel. Felix leaned forwards in his seat, attempting to listen in on the conversation.

 

“Hey, Megan, I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to any of your texts- I sort of broke my phone.” He shuffled in the seat slightly, listening to the response from the other end of the phone. “No, No, there was an accident at work. Yeah, I’m fine. No, you don’t need to threaten my boss, everything’s okay. Yes, I know he’s terrified of you, but it’s all sorted now.” Siris kept up the lie that the three of them had agreed to use when asked about their career- according to the rest of the city, they all spent their nights working at a dull factory, rather than careering across the city bringing in dangerous criminals. “Look, I’m getting some breakfast with Isaac and Sam, then I’ll come straight home, I promise.” He paused, as if debating whether to leave the call at that, then continued speaking. “Actually, Megan, try and keep tonight free- I want to take you and the kids out for a meal. What, no! It’s nothing like that. I just,” He hesitated, evidently searching for the correct words. “I love you, and I want to do nice things for you, okay? Alright, I’m probably going to have to hang up- I’m calling you while I’m driving and Sam is glaring at me like he’s about to put my head through the steering wheel. Yeah, I’ll see you later, Megan.” Siris pulled the phone out from where it was balanced against his shoulder and ended the call.

 

“Wu, you fucking sap.” Felix grinned at the shorter man, before falling silent as Siris turned in his seat to face him.

 

“You know, Gates, I could easily go back on my promise of pancakes.”

 

-

 

The mercenary work was Felix’s idea. 

 

He presented the concept to Locus and Siris with no prior warning, approaching them cautiously, hands raised slightly in as much of a submissive gesture as his ego would allow him.

 

“Okay, I need you both to hear me out on this completely before you start shooting or something.” His gaze flickered over to where Locus was cleaning weaponry in the corner, an assortment of guns laid out on the table in front of him, a vaguely concerned expression upon his face. 

 

“Gates, what did you do?” Siris’ voice was cautionary, and Felix took a step back instinctively.

 

“Right, so I got us a new target- it’ll give us a lot of money, and it shouldn’t take too long or be too difficult.” Before either Locus or Siris could question him on the matter, he continued talking. “There is a catch though: the target doesn’t exactly have a bounty on them- it’d be more like private work than the stuff we’re used to.” Siris’ eyes narrowed as he caught on to what Felix was implying. 

 

“You want us to kill an innocent person, don’t you? Felix, I’m not-” Siris’ voice was accusatory, and Felix waved his hands to interrupt him. 

 

“I said hear me out. The target isn’t innocent. They’re a bad person that just happens to have avoided being listed for any of the stuff they’ve done.” 

 

“So we’d be acting as mercenaries.” Locus spoke in response from where he was still looking over the guns on the table, and Felix nodded.

 

“See, Sam-”

 

“Codenames.”

 

“- _ Locus  _ gets it. Look, Wu, if you don’t want to do it, then just don’t fucking do it! Me and Locs will handle this one on our own, then we can go back to bounty hunting.” Felix folded his arms pointedly, and Siris sighed.

 

“No, I’ll do it. We’re partners- we need to stick together.” He reached up to run a hand through his hair wearily, fingers brushing momentarily over the scar that still cut through his eyebrow. “I just wish that you’d come and asked me about it first. Then we could have worked it out as a team.” 

 

“Yeah, I know. Communication and all that. Got it.” Felix’s voice brimmed with impatience. “Come on, are we going to just sit here, or are we going to start planning.”

 

-

 

The three of them began to alternate between bounty hunting and the mercenary work that Felix signed them into more and more often. Locus and Felix took to the new line of work easily, however, for Siris, the transition was increasingly difficult to handle, the concept of taking out the morally questionable rather than just handing over criminals seemed to weigh heavily on his conscience. He fell back, rarely involving himself in actually taking care of the target, preferring to remain in the background as a sniper and getaway driver. Yet he still refused to leave, refused to turn his back on them, always with the affirmation that they were partners and that as long as they talked things over, they would be fine. 

 

Felix expected that he might give up at some point, that he might collapse under the pressure and leave to focus on caring for his family instead. He didn’t even think to expect that Siris would be the first of them to die.

 

He was killed in the same way that he was injured, in the midst of an argument that spiralled out of control and drew their focus away from the task at hand. 

 

“Hey, Siris, get down here and help me with this.” Felix spoke into his earpiece, gun in one hand, scanning the area for any sign of the target. There was a brief moment of static between the two of them, before a response sounded.

 

“Can’t you handle it? I’d prefer not to get involved.” Siris’ voice was hesitant, and Felix hissed in exasperation.

 

“Look, if you’re going to insist on coming along to these jobs, then the least you could do is actually help.” 

 

“I don’t want to get involved, okay. I don’t want to be a criminal.” The shorter man’s voice was hesitant.

 

“Well, we’re in a bit too deep to be thinking like that, don’t you think?” Felix spat back bitterly. “You’ve killed just as many people as I have- it’s a bit too late to be getting fucking cold feet about it. Now get over here and help me.” There was a long pause before Siris responded.

 

“Maybe I am getting cold feet. I have a  _ family,  _ I can’t be seen as a murderer.” Felix rolled his eyes and whirled around, trying to pinpoint his partner’s location.

 

“Tough fucking luck, Siris. You agreed to this, so get your ass over here, and feel sorry for yourself later.” The brunet could slowly feeling his patience slipping away, only seconds away from turning the debate into a shouting match. 

 

“No! I  _ never _ agreed to this! You said once. You said we’d take that one target, then go back to bounty hunting. But look at where we are now.” Felix could envision the look of frustration that would undoubtedly be present upon Siris’ face, and it did nothing but fuel his steadily growing anger. “Neither you or Locus ever asked me how  _ I  _ felt about any of this.” 

 

“Fine- I get it. You don’t want to help. Just shut the fuck up and let me deal with it then.” Felix started moving, hoping to seek out Locus for help instead. 

 

“I’m not shutting up. We need to talk about this now; you can’t just keep making decisions without making sure we can take it as a team.” The mention of teamwork was what finally sent Felix’s anger boiling over the edge.

 

“You know what-  _ Fuck _ the team!” He hissed his words into his earpiece. “I don’t  _ care _ if you don’t agree with it; this is the only way that we’re ever going to get money in this shithole of a city, so if you don’t agree with it, then just get up and leave!” Before Siris could respond, Felix reached up and ripped out his earpiece, throwing it to the ground and crushing it under the heel of his shoe. He caught sight of Siris’ position as the man stepped out of cover, waving his arms aggressively as if trying to shout something down to him.

 

“Felix, what’s going on?” Locus appeared from around the corner, and Felix whirled around to face the taller man, anger still pulsing through him. 

 

“Siris is being a fucking prick, that’s what’s going on.” Locus blinked, dismissing the brunet’s rage, reaching up as if receiving a transmission to his earpiece. A jolt of impulsive energy struck Felix, and he surged forwards, snatching the device from Locus’ ear and smashing it into the ground along with his own. “Don’t even bother listening to him. He’s just going to distract us.” He raised his gun and glanced across the terrain, his gaze catching on Siris once again. He was still gesturing angrily in their direction, the sound of muffled yelling reaching Felix as he attempted to relay a message of some sort. The sense of smug pride over the fact that he seemed to have won the argument that filled Felix lasted approximately three seconds before it was cut off by the sound of a gun firing.

 

The noise bewildered Felix at first, but the moment Siris stopped gesturing and crumpled to the ground, confusion morphed quickly into dread. A brief shared look between him and Locus sent the two of them running to where Siris had stepped out of cover just long enough for the target to spot him and put a bullet through his skull. 

 

It was clear that Siris had died the moment he was hit, the shot striking him directly in the head, leaving him slumped unceremoniously on the ground, eyes still staring straight ahead, the back of his skull burst open and its contents scattered in a halo of gore around him. Felix stared silently down at the body, before letting out a shaky laugh that held no humour to it. 

 

“Well, Megan’s not going to like this.”

 

-

 

They vowed that they would always communicate. They had seen what would happen if they didn’t, the death and injuries that it would cause, and, for people who claimed to hate one another, they each seemed to care a lot about their partner’s wellbeing and safety. When they fought, it was always side by side, and the conversation between them was ceaseless. 

 

Usually, it was shared tactics, instructions and reminders: “Move left.” and “Search up there.”

 

Often, it was reassurance: “I’ve got your back.” and “We’re going to make it.”

 

Occasionally, it was just talk, enough to ensure that they were alive and working as one: “Hey Locs, that guy looks like he has a dick drawn on his armour.” “Focus on what you’re doing.” “Hey, I’m just trying to find conversation points, you’re not exactly talkative.” “Shut up before I make you.” “Ooh, is that a threat?”

 

It was an unspoken rule between them: never turn off your private radio channel, never remove your comms earpiece. Talk to one another, and everything will be fine.

 

-

 

The mission on Chorus made communication difficult. The Rebel Army was demanding and left Felix with little free time to contact Locus at the Feds’ base, someone always needing him to train soldiers or fix something or just to complete some mundane task that none of them had been taught how to manage. In all honesty, he felt as if he was the one supporting the Army rather than its own leaders. 

 

At least the sworn enemies act with Locus was an easy one to keep up- the annoyance and frustration Felix felt towards the other mercenary was nothing but genuine, however it didn’t deter him from moving to quiet corners of the base whenever possible to radio in to Locus, to run over the plan and consolidate that they knew exactly what they were doing. For Felix, if he and Locus remained in contact, then they would both be fine- they had never failed before when they communicated, so Chorus, despite being under circumstances that neither of them were used to, should be no exception.

 

Felix didn’t notice the changes that the gateway brought until it was too late. He didn’t notice the fact that Locus no longer responded when Felix questioned him about how he felt about his orders; didn’t notice when he himself simply stopped asking; didn’t notice that communication had become nothing but one-sided conversation.

  
Then, when he contacted Locus after his gun was thrown down at his feet and his pleas for assistance were denied- only to find his partner’s comms link disabled-  _ that _ was when he finally noticed.


End file.
